


What It Means to Me

by Plainxte



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection, Maycury if you squint, Overthinking, Platonic Maycury, Songfic, Songwriting, mild references to depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plainxte/pseuds/Plainxte
Summary: "This part," Freddie said. "It needs something, some kind of a different sound."Brian sighed. "What did you have in mind?""That's what I wanted to ask you," Freddie said. Now his eyes were intent. "I was thinking about a harp.""Harp?""Yes. Would you consider playing one?" Freddie was looking up at him, through his eyelashes.**Over the course of a few weeks in the summer of 1975, a special song slowly took shape.
Relationships: Brian May & Freddie Mercury
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	What It Means to Me

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on Tumblr, over on @rhyewritersstudio, as part of a beta challenge. Thank you everyone who participated and gave feedback 💞 – I appreciate it immensely! Thank you so much, Mayamaia 💕 for organising it, for all the help, and for answering all my questions. And thanks Quirkysubject 😘 for the original prompt for this story, for reading through the first version & kind words!

_Ridge Farm / Sarm Studios, 1975_

**

"Brian?"

"Freddie?"

It was a pleasant summer's day. Balmy air was wafting through the windows, and dust motes were swirling in the studio air. Brian didn't mind; it was almost hot enough to consider changing to shorter sleeves for once. And the warmth provided a welcome contrast to the turmoil within. He had been trying to work on a song, but it just wasn't going anywhere, and the pressure was starting to get to him.

"Oh, Brian?"

Now that Brian hadn't risen to the bait, the tone of Freddie's voice had changed. The note was a different one. It was definitely a familiar one to Brian. It was one that could mean a number of things. Sometimes it meant that Brian was going to be treated to a fabulous new piece of music that would take his breath away. Sometimes it was trouble, pure and simple. But either way, there was something on Freddie's mind, and Brian was going to be involved, whether he liked or not.

"Yes?" Brian said, cautiously.

"Would you listen to something of mine? Only it's not complete yet."

"Of course, Fred," Brian said, drawn in despite himself.

Freddie turned back to the keys of the piano. Brian put his notes aside and sat back to listen. He cocked his head. The beginning was intriguing; it sounded more like a classical piano piece than anything he had been expecting. Although with Freddie, you should probably just expect to be surprised, more than anything else. 

Freddie began to hum a melody, singing a word here and there, just a guide vocal, if that. And the chords – it began easily enough, C major to A minor, D minor and G major seventh, and how did Freddie manage to make it all sound so smooth? Freddie came back to C major, only this time around, he added on to it with something that made Brian's breath catch. It was just a fleeting moment, just one chord in a progression, leading on to F major – but at the same time, it was one of those twists of harmony that made it clear that this couldn't be anything but one of Freddie's songs. It fit in seamlessly, but at the same time, it was very uniquely _Freddie._

"I like the sound of that," Brian said, deciding to save caution for another day. This was brilliant. 

"Mmm," Freddie murmured, distractedly. "Listen to this, darling."

But after a moment, Freddie came to an abrupt halt in the middle of a phrase, lifting his hands suddenly from the keys. "And then there's a bit missing there," he said. "I haven't got it yet. But, Brian?"

Now that sounded familiar. And rather ominous.

"Fred?"

"Could you – I mean I think I'd need – can I ask you?" 

"I think you just did," Brian smiled. "But I don't know. What is it? It sounded good, what you were playing." He was getting himself into deep trouble, he knew it. And he had enough troubles of his own already. Although it was tempting to lose himself in Freddie's song for a while and forget about the one he had himself been trying and failing to work on.

"I'd need a guitar track for this, of course," Freddie continued. "But I think it should be mostly driven by the piano."

"Hmm, yes, I see what you mean," Brian said. "It could work like that."

Freddie raised an incredulous eyebrow at that. "Work? It's going to be fabulous. But listen – I think it needs something special. For this – wait, let me just go through it once more."

There was a sudden clatter at the door; it seemed that Roger and John had returned from their foray into town, or wherever it was that they had disappeared to. Distracted, Brian turned in their direction, raising a hand in greeting.

"Oh, never mind them, Bri," Freddie said from the piano. "I'll just play it for you quickly."

It warmed Brian's heart that it was him that Freddie was turning to. That he had Freddie's attention all to himself for the moment. It wasn't that he had anything to complain about, or that he thought Queen should have been anything except the four-part harmony, the intertwined melody, that it was. Together, all four of them were something that was greater than the sum of its parts. Even when they disagreed about something. But still, it was equal parts exciting and comforting to be the one that Freddie's attention was fixed on. To be the one he sang to, and that his dark eyes focused on.

Brian brushed a stray curl away from his face. There it was, falling in his eyes again. Nothing he did helped, and nothing worked. How irritating. He entertained a brief fantasy of cutting his hair short, but shuddered the next minute, remembering just how impossible _that_ had been. 

"So, if the beginning's going to sound like this," Freddie said, playing the passage again: it was both simple and complex, made up of familiar elements and yet becoming something special again, ending on a long major seventh chord. 

"That's just too much for just one instrument," Freddie said, looking down at his hands, deep in concentration. "It needs something, some kind of a different sound."

"Could I do something with the Old Lady?"

Freddie's reaction was instantaneous: a decisive, swift shake of his head. "Oh, no, not here."

Brian shifted, and Freddie lifted his eyes, looking earnestly at him. "I don't mean – Brian, I definitely want her voice in this – and there will be a solo – but here, this part, it needs something to lift it up."

Brian sighed. "What did you have in mind?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you," Freddie said. Now his eyes were intent. "I was thinking about a harp."

"Harp?"

"Yes. Would you consider playing one?" Freddie was looking up at him, through his eyelashes.

Brian's laughter was incredulous. "No, don't be absurd, Freddie. I can't do that."

Freddie's face fell. "Oh," he said, nothing more, a small dejected sound. He turned away, looking away.

Brian felt bad. Usually, if they argued, he had no trouble defending his own point of view. But here and now, it was just him and Freddie. It wasn't about the whole band. And Freddie had asked him for a favour.

He couldn't leave it there.

"Freddie – I didn't mean it like that. But I have no idea about how to play a harp. There's technique and –"

"Oh, Brian, as brilliant as you are. I mean, I'm sure you'll pick it up in no time."

"I'll just make a fool out of myself –"

"Of course you won't. Or else we're all fools to even be doing this record in the first place. Royal fools. Sort of fitting, don't you think?" Freddie had perked up. Brian knew it was impossible: he was going to cave in and do whatever Freddie wanted. He had already resigned to his fate.

"So you'll agree, then? I'll arrange it," Freddie said, getting up from the piano bench.

"Don't you think the song will need an acoustic, too?" Maybe he could salvage some of his dignity.

"Yes, yes. I like the sound of that one – you know – the distinct voice –"

"The Hummingbird?"

"I suppose – you know the one, I'm sure. I'll leave it to you. But I don't want the guitar to be too dominant, though, if you see what I mean."

"Hmm, yeah. The piano should be on top of the mix. But maybe the guitar will get to take control in a couple of places?"

"I think that could be arranged," Freddie hummed.

* * *

Even though the weather was muggier than it had been when they rehearsed a couple of weeks ago, today Brian was feeling chilly. The cellar studio was cool even in the August sunlight, and the sleeves of his shirt weren't long enough. They never were. Brian scratched his fingers idly across his cheek. His beard was getting quite noticeable now. It was no longer in the stubble phase at all. But it didn't do anything to distract him from the real source of his discomfort: the harp that had been brought into the studio that morning. 

He felt dubious about the whole enterprise, to say the least, but he had promised, hadn't he? He could deal with a bit of added stress. There had been plenty of it to go around already, with this album. What was a little more? He had to be able to take it, hadn't he? 

Steeling himself, Brian walked across the room and touched the gleaming light-coloured wood of the instrument with a careful fingertip. The harp was very beautiful; it wasn't that. He was sure its tone was lovely, too. And it couldn't be impossible, could it? He should be able to figure out how to play a couple of nice chords, shouldn't he? It should be easier than the guitar and all its fingerings. That was the theory, anyway.

He took a deep breath, selected a suitable-looking stool, and sat himself down with the harp. He wasn't normally this jumpy – playing around with the toy koto had been fun. And all their other experiments. He delighted in them. But somehow this felt more serious; failure just wasn't an option. Was it something about Freddie's demeanour, perhaps? As though there was something special about the song itself?

It quickly became obvious that he wasn't going to be able to actually play anything complicated on the instrument anytime soon. It was difficult, really properly so. He felt a tightness in his throat, and there was a curl of despair somewhere at the back of his mind. Everything sounded horrible, and the tuning wasn't holding. What was he going to do? Was there nothing that would make it easier? There had to be _something._

"That's not bad at all," came Freddie's voice from somewhere behind him, unexpectedly. So engrossed had Brian been in what he was doing that he hadn't noticed Freddie enter the room.

"Now you're just flattering me," Brian tried to smile. He quickly turned his eyes back to the strings, not wanting to lose track of his thoughts. If he focused on how close to tears he was, even for a moment, he wasn't going to get anything done. And it wouldn't help, anyway. But there was something he had been thinking about, some kind of a glimmer of an idea that he had been about to get hold of…

"Do you think," Brian began slowly, trying to figure it out, plucking out what he hoped would be a nice harmony and grimacing at the resultant strange twang. "Well. If we recorded it bit by bit? What do you think? One small bit at a time, one chord at a time, maybe, and then combine them?"

"I don't know, Brian." Freddie looked doubtful. 

"Yes, but – listen to this," Brian huffed. He made another stab at the G7 chord that was resisting all his attempts to get it to behave. "This isn't what we want, is it? It just sounds wrong."

Freddie hummed. "No, no, I don't think so, Brian. Just a moment. Can you play it again, what you just did just now, when you were playing – that sort of – that movement of your hands – shaped like that –" Freddie made an indeterminate gesture, trying to capture in words something that couldn't be explained.

"I think I want them all to be shaped in the same way, all the chords. But we could try bit by bit, after all," Freddie mused. He sat down next to the harp, and Brian found himself leaning a little closer without having actually decided to do so.

Even with Freddie there lightening Brian's mood, making it easier to trust his own playing, it was slow going. He played a chord, just one, just three notes. And then the same chord with one more tone added, and one more… it got easier, but only just. Little by little. 

And it wasn't just the playing itself that was challenging: nothing seemed to make tuning any easier. It took an age and a half to tune, and then an age again. Brian wasn't happy with it. The moment he thought that everything was as it should be, there was someone at the door; a gust of wind, and there went the tuning again. And what were you supposed to do with the pedals, anyway?

Thankfully, in the end Freddie decided that the harp was essential only in a very few places. There were to be three arpeggi in all: one at the beginning of the song, leading the way from the intro to the verse, and another just before the final segment of song. Brian thought its function was maybe to emphasise the final repetition of the melody; maybe that was how Freddie thought about it. And finally, of course, the harp had the final say at the very end of the song, giving it a final polish. Or that's what Brian hoped it would become. 

"We'll paste them together, the separate chords, and that will create a – an illusion of progression, don't you think?"

"Yes, but you need to have a, a crescendo there. Swelling, you know. So that it leads to the next bit. I mean –"

"Yes, I see. I think I can do that. Hold on – like this?" 

Freddie was nodding his head now, pleased at the sounds that Brian was finally coaxing out of the instrument. He touched Brian's forearm, quickly, just for a fleeting moment. "Yes, that will do it. That's going to be brilliant, darling."

Freddie always called everyone that, and yet it made Brian feel warm inside. The chill that had seemed to settle into his bones lately receded, a bit. It was a relief, particularly after the uncertainty of it all: the whole process of recording the whole album, and everything that he wasn't sure about. Brian wanted this song to be good. For Freddie, for himself, and for all of them.

* * *

In comparison to the difficulties of trying to cope with the harp, and its tuning – Brian thought that in the end, that took up more time than everything else put together – the guitar part of Freddie's song was shaping up to be fairly straightforward. The acoustic wove in and out of the texture of it, supporting the piano here and there. In addition to that, the Red Special added its own shades of colour in a couple of corners. It was almost easy, and for the first time in weeks, Brian felt lighter. Almost like smiling, or even laughing.

Freddie seemed to have a good idea of what he wanted to do with the vocals, too. It was going to be a quite intense, beautiful song. But the light in Freddie's eyes as he worked was what Brian loved the most about those sessions. And, of course, it was always a treat, getting to see Freddie get properly into playing the piano. There was something that reminded Brian of Mozart's piano works in what Freddie was calling into being, fingers dancing over the keys. And Brian thought he heard echoes of other pieces, and other techniques as well, when Freddie played: things that Freddie combined, rather cleverly, and made them into something new, something that was his own. Quite special, in the end, like Freddie himself.

Brian found himself liking the way the whole of it was starting to sound, too, but apparently not everyone shared his view.

"Why are you doing that?" Roger huffed, a deep frown on his face. "Put the level back down, Brian. It was better the way it was. The guitar's too high up in the mix now. You can't hear anything else!"

Brian was just about to retort angrily. _You weren't here when we planned it,_ he thought, the words burning at the tip of his tongue. And _it's my decision, not yours,_ he wanted to say to Roger, and _you're not the one playing, anyway,_ along with a couple of choice remarks that he knew would make Roger's temper flare.

"No, no, Roger," Freddie said, touching Brian lightly on the arm with one hand. _Wait,_ that touch said. _It's okay, Brian._ Or that's what he hoped it meant, anyway. Freddie shooed Roger away from the controls with his other hand. "It's not done yet, really," Freddie continued. "I'm going to add another layer, wait until you hear that." 

Roger subsided, sullenly. And the look that Freddie directed at Brian then was sharp and a little too knowing, almost like he had known how close they had been to starting a fight. And perhaps he had. Freddie was good at that sort of thing.

"I'm not going to let Brian take over altogether," Freddie told Roger.

"Well, I definitely hope not."

"Look –" Brian started, at the end of his tether.

"Brian, don't mind him – I mean, listen to this," Freddie interrupted him, seemingly intent on keeping the peace for as long as possible. "Keep the guitar as it is, now, but let's instead bring this up a bit more. Then it would mean, wouldn't it, that –" 

At the back of the room, John settled down on a sofa, unconcerned, but listening to the tape with interest. With a sniff that sounded disdainful in Brian's ears, Roger grabbed a bottle of lager from the side table and went to join John, the argument seemingly forgotten for the moment.

Brian couldn't explain what it was about Roger's comments, and his whole behaviour, that put him so on edge. It was nothing out of the ordinary, after all. They always rowed, and probably always would do so. It was the only way to ensure that the record would become as good as it could be. And as far as feedback from Roger went, this hadn't even been particularly confrontational. 

But there was also something new in the air. There was the pressure to succeed, of course, now more than ever, but where Brian was doubting himself at every turn, Freddie seemed to relish in the challenge. 

Freddie was so confident, and he seemed to be completely in his element. And all the while Brian himself was grasping at straws. Brian had a feeling that there was something that he wanted to say and something he almost managed to put into music already – almost. The final form kept eluding him. A snatch of melody, a sequence of chords that was nearly right… But it wasn't at all like the fluent stream of wonderful music that seemed to be flowing from Freddie whenever he sat down at the piano.

Still, it wasn't as though he didn't enjoy working on Freddie's songs. On the contrary.

"Shall we listen to it once again?"

The voice shook Brian out of his reverie. On his side, Freddie lifted a hand to his hair just above his ear, in a characteristic gesture. The flick of his wrist was elegant, almost dainty. There was something about Freddie's movement that Brian liked; it was almost like watching a dancer. An artistry in the flow and the motion. He shook his head, concentrating on the music again. 

This time, he heard the words of the song, too. He listened to them like he hadn't done before. He marvelled at them: they were simple and yet something very special, like the music. 

_Don't take it away from me_  
_Because you don't know_  
_What it means to me…_

There was a cautious smile on Freddie's face when the tape came to an end. "I think that's about it, actually. Brian, how about you?"

Brian felt some of the tension inside him give way at Freddie's words. There was a sincerity in them: a job well done, and another song finished. Suddenly it was easy to return Freddie's smile. Brian scratched his cheek again; the beard was starting to get itchy. Maybe it was time to give himself a proper shave, now? And take another look at that song that he hadn't been able to get into shape, too. 

**

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Do come talk to me in the comments!
> 
> (Or on Tumblr --> @plainxte)


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